


these young children

by badAquatic



Series: Trailerstuck [91]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human/Troll Society, Animal Death, F/M, Illustrated, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, discussion of asexuality, discussion of past rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 18:04:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7542595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badAquatic/pseuds/badAquatic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This summer around the park is shaping up to be one of fatherhood: some great at it like Kankri, some awkward at it like Kurloz, and then there's Karkat in a league of his own with his ceruleanblood son. </p>
<p>Takes place during 'spring when the world is mud'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. grand-mère

**== >Be Arthat with your grandmother **

It is a shame that despite your grandmother’s poise and eloquence she lives in the Ninth Ward. You see her living in a luxurious cottage with a gigantic library out in the countryside—not in this hovel she shares with your grandmother. Your _step-_ grandfather, as your mother reminds you, because there is no way you are related to a hideous blueblood. Your grandmother is always sweet to him, but you don’t believe a refined woman like her could be attracted to him.

She must be getting _something_ out of it, whether its his money, his muscles, or his baser features. It is the same between your mother and Hecuba. Then again, Hecuba is a tealblood of Midas-related merits and class. She is nothing like Karkat, who isn’t worthy of being in the same category as your blueblood not-grandfather. Karkat is far below, in the worms and muck.

But you do not dwell on Karkat, for dwelling on Karkat would ruin the moment.

Your grandmother made sure that the both of you would have the trailer to yourself, absent of your not-grandfather or his crippled son. You sit on the couch while your grandmother takes the armchair by the window. She prepares tea and biscuits and although the biscuits are stale, you are polite. Your grandmother can only afford so much.

“How are things so far?” your grandmother asks.

“Che! If je had all day je could not begin to tell vous les miseries je have experienced.” You sip your lemon tea before continuing, “Vous home est lovely, grand-mère, but Karkat’s est a mess! Full of loud children, animals, et les humans! Les humans pollute his life. To live such a way est...” You shake your head. “Does il fear le touch of his own kind?”

“He may, but Karkat has a good reason for that.” Your grandmother says, “I won’t tell you because its not my place to do so, but one day he may tell you.”

“Je will never have interest in what Karkat will tell moi.” Nothing of value could ever come out of that mutantblood’s mouth.

Your grandmother shrugs. “To each his own,” she says, “but Karkat is with Sollux now. It is interesting to see how yellow and mutant red gravitate toward each other given their ancestral histories, and...” She pauses and then smiles, “But I’m not here to ponder history. I have questions for you, my grandson.”

You smile. “Anything for you, grand-mère.”

“Do you know why you’re here, my darling?”

“Mère says je must, ugh, _bond_ with Karkat,” you grunt, “but je am too smart to fall for that lie. Je know it est because she cannot leave me along with Monsieur Snippy for days on end.” You stroke your father’s carapaced hide. You wish you could walk into the wilderness with him, living as father and son.

“Yes, but do you know why she asked that Karkat bring you to _me_?”

You hazard a guess. “So that je will not have to spend all day with that brute?”

“No, my darling.” Your grandmother chuckles. “Tell me, Arthat…why do you speak like that?”

Your grandmother is staring at you, with the sunlight reflecting in her bright cerulean eyes. A bead of sweat runs down your cheek, but to wipe it away would be acknowledging you fears.

“Speak like what, grandmother?” you ask.  

“That accent.” Your grandmother’s eyes are searching your face. “You’ve spoken that way since you were a grub. Do you know why you have a verbal tic? You lack the eightfold eye—the _Serket_ eye—and yet you have a pronounced way of speaking.”

You have no idea why you speak this way. It’s always been in your brain since you gained consciousness. Your grandmother that stares at you, no longer smiling, and waiting for the answer. You’re frightened but can’t look away, because looking away would be showing fear.

“I see.” Your grandmother’s smile returns. “It’s a trick. Those words are how you keep it tampered down. When was the first time you learned how to use it, Arthat?”

The first time? Your younger mind’s memories and words are meshed. An emotion hovers at the edge of the fog, the first strong emotion you ever felt: hatred. A deep, cold hatred for a person that dared put their hands on you. You remember the fear, the screaming, and finally being let go thanks to the intervention of your father.

You didn’t do much to the person though. They were going to die anyways. All you did was nudge your father’s instincts, raise his ire in a way his ancestors did in the deserts. A small push that loosed the dam in their body trying to fight back. That one person taught you all about hatred and you’ll never know their name.

“It est for le best.” You say. “Vous know what ils do to psionics, grand-mère. They put things in votre brain et if vous are too powerful...”

More surgeries and experiments. Yellow and rust psionics are acceptable, filtered into the military and engineering, but not ceruleans. _Too scheming,_ they say, _too dangerous._ It’s easier to have you locked in prisons or hospitals. As long as you’re isolated.

“I know.” Your grandmother leans forward, “That is why I’m going to do for you what my mother did for me and what I did for Vriska. I’m going to teach you to hide it.”

You frown. “Je am hiding it well.”

Your grandmother smirks. “Humans are stupid, Arthat, but they’re not _that_ stupid. When you start school, they’ll question your tic. They’ll insist you take speech therapy under the guise of ‘helping’, but they want to push your boundaries. You think the tests get easier with time? Absolutely not. The entire school and employment system is designed to weed out psionics. Even now I’m tested. They crave to see our powers.”

Your grandmother steeples her fingers. You dig your fingers into the armrest so you don’t shake.

“We are not trolls, Arthat.” your grandmother says, “We are arachnids. We are spiders and scorpions. We dwell in the shadows, make our traps, and wait. We do not expose ourselves to their sunlight and let our venom to the work.  We are _Serkets_.” She picks up her teacup and sips. “My mother told me these exact words when I was a year old. I told your mother. Now I will tell you, so that you will tell _your_ Serkets into infinity.”

You breathe slowly, drinking in her words.

“Now,” your grandmother looks at the window, “there is a lusus rooting around my garden. I’ve let them rest in my tree. Show me what you can do with it.”

You leave Monsieur Snippy on the couch and go to the window. Your grandmother stands next to you.

Resting on the tree branches in the front yard is a crow-lusus. It’s large with grey-white plumage and four beady eyes. A disgusting trash bird. You don’t have to wait long for the lusus to lock eyes with you.

Then you have it. You reel in the lusus’s mind. The struggle is brief and after seconds, the animal gives in. You have it hop into the center of the yard. The movements are always rigid in the early stages of control.  

Your grandmother is intrigued, but not pleased.

“I want you to stand in the road.” You say.

The crow-lusus walks into the road. Its small mind questions what is going on but can’t break free.

“I want you to stay still.” you say, “I want you to not move.”

The crow lusus remains in the center of the road. Its mind is screaming, fighting your control.

The ultimate test arrives when a car swerves around the road, blasting loud music. The crow lusus remains still. It doesn’t move and the car’s approach is fast. The broad wheel runs it over, crushing the lusus. The bird’s mind snaps and the whiplash is slight. The whiplash is nothing like holding onto a large mind as it dies, but there is a small sting.

The car pulls over and through the window, you hear the driver cursing. The crow-lusus is splattered on the pavement.  

Your grandmother looks at you with cold pride.

 

 

“Oh, my child…” she sighs, “...you are going to do _marvelous_ things.”


	2. the new situation

**== >Be Jade at that exact moment **

 

“Hurry uuuup!” Nessie tugs at the doorknob, trying to open it.

“Nessie, stop it.” you say.

The minute Nessie knew you were leaving, she rushed to get ready and you had to dedicate a half-hour to straightening out her buttoned shirt and putting on matching socks. Now you’re busy getting yourself ready.

Nessie groans and flops on the ground. You ignore her, double checking your purse and making sure the basket is securely wrapped. She’s too much like Dave: wants immediate satisfaction and patience is an impossibility. When you make it to the door, Nessie picks herself off the ground and follows you.

The drive isn’t long. Nessie bounces in the booster seat, singing with the radio.  You drive over to Anderson, which has become as wet and wild as Two Boot Drive in the past year. Yellow tape has marked off empty trailers and petitions stapled to electric poles concerning construction and environmental protection.

You pull up to a modest trailer. It’s on the shabby side but that’s why rent is cheaper compared to other parts of the neighborhood, incentivizing people to start filling up the park again like before. The walk to the front door is short, but you insist on holding Nessie’s hand. The girl picks up _everything_ she thinks is shiny or interesting and in this neighborhood, that could mean a stone or a razor blade.

Nessie hates it and pulls on your hand. You ring the doorbell and wait three minutes before it opens. Sweat runs down Rose’s face and her waitressing uniform slightly damp.

“Hey there.” You say, smiling.

Rose smiles. “Right on time.”

“Auntie!” Nessie seizes Rose’s leg, grinning.

“Hey there, Nessie.” Rose bends down and picks up your daughter. ”You’re getting so _big_!”

Nessie smiles. “Yeah! I’m super big!”

The inside of the trailer is bare but you expected that as Rose is still acquiring furniture and decorations. She insists that you not bring anything, but you can’t help but offer her the vegetables from the hydroponic garden.

Rose takes the vegetable basket to the kitchen and you follow, leaving Nessie in the living room. Nessie isn’t a destructive whirlwind like Khanie and recquire much supervision once she has the TV and snacks. Rose makes sure the channel is turned to Cartoon Planet for her.

“Really, Jade, you don’t have to do this.” Rose opens the basket, looking at the offering of okra, cucumber, and eggplants. “Last month you gave me so many tomatoes I think even Jane was tired of it.”

You smile. “Well, you’re getting eggplant this. I can’t get Dave to eat it no matter how I cook it.” You swear Dave is a pickier eater than the one-year-old.

“You really _are_ a miracle worker.” Rose opens the fridge to start putting away the vegetables. “Jane is visiting her butcher, so maybe we’ll have stew tonight.”

“So...how are you holding up?”

Rose smiles. “You always ask me that.”

You shrug. “Never hurts to ask.”

Rose shuts the fridge. Her purple eyes always have a shine. You question if colors are more vivid compared to your vision.

“It’s weird.” Rose admits, “Living like this and I feel three times older living here. It’s hard to explain. It feels like time is passing faster. You?”

“It’s…alright. Still getting used to things. Nessie mostly.” You sigh, “She’s so… _big_ …and it’s hard to manage. She grows out of clothes so quickly it’s easier just to do some sewing on what she already has.”

Rose nods and starts looking through the cabinet, taking out items for dinner. “How’s the pain?”

“Still present. They want to do a nerve study but that can be intense for a one-year-old. The physician says it’s growing pains and considering how big she is, I think he’s right. I just wish they could do something about...”

About _everything_ , really. You love your daughter to the point where your heart could burst but you do wish she was still a tiny toddler clinging to you for comfort. She’s so large now and she hardly needs you and her eyes are…well, they’re disturbing. There’s no way around it. Dave is bothered by it too but he still has all the love in the world for your daughter.

“How’s the medication treating you?” you ask, because you’d rather not think about your daughter and her situation.  

Rose shrugs. “They wanted me on a cocktail of drugs but I only opted for hormones. It’s not that bad.” She studies her nails. “Jane finally stopped asking me to stop moving in with her. I know she’s just trying to help and she’s a sweet, really, but I don’t want her as a housemate.”

You could understand that. Jane is nice but Rose and her personalities would grind against each other. The past year was hard enough.

“I always thought Roxy would move in with her.” You say, “They lived together before. Why not now?”

“I suspect Jane didn’t exactly approve of my mother’s lifestyle.” Rose pauses, “Or maybe she pulled away for more intimate reasons.”

Before you can question what that means, a wail interrupts you. You follow Rose to a bedroom, where the wailing is emanating from. Rose walks to a crib and picks up the infant resting in. They’re incredibly human and small with normal eyes and no ridges on their skull. Blonde hair pokes out their blonde skull.

You shove away the sting of jealousy before it can slip further.

“Honestly, the _worst_ thing about post-partum depression,” Rose says with a sardonic smile at her son, “is that the _only_ person it tires out is you.”


	3. shoes and swings

**== >Jade: Be Kurloz, trying to bond with your daughter **

Astrid and you stare at each other: your eyes narrow, your bodies tense, and pupils shrunken. Neither of you are poised for attack, but you’re watching each other for aggression. The look on Astrid’s face makes you want to run rather than tolerate looking at her hollow, hateful eyes, but you can’t do that. No way you can call yourself purple and be frightened by your daughter. A small voice—a high-pitch, nervous voice that is always present when you’re most afraid—still questions what the hell this is and why the fuck you agreed to this.

Then you remember your obnoxious kismesis refusing to give you sex unless you spend time with your daughter. You had hoped Kankri would stick to tell you what the fuck is going through Astrid’s mind, but nope. He leaves with Kempie for the day because he never makes your life easier.

Well...he wouldn’t be a good kismesis if he _did_ , but you still think its shitty.

Astrid stands on the edge of the Vantas-Pyrope lawn. You have no idea what to say or do.

“So...” you say, “...anything you want to do?”

Astrid stares.

“Well, c’mon.” you say.

Astrid stares. You start to walk toward your trailer. The purpleblood kit glances at her trailer and after a few minutes, follows you.  

Kankri’s trailer is quiet and quaint. The mutantblood has invested in planting shrubs and maintaining floral window boxes. The lawn is nicer than it has ever been in the past.

Your trailer, on the other hand, is the earthly embodiment of chaos. Your attempts to maintain the front lawn and backyard are constantly thwarted by Felida digging large holes and uprooting plants. Felida is on the front lawn lying on her stomach in the grass. Her bushy, tangled tail is skyward—swishing around.

You approach her. “What are you _doing_?”

“Ants.” Felida answers.

She points to a mound of fire ants going about their business. You have another concern when you notice her feet.

“Felida, where are your _shoes_?” you groan.

Felida takes one look at you and bolts. You look at Astrid and say “Stay here” before you chase your other daughter.

You chase Felida to the backyard because that’s her favorite place to hide. The oliveblood enjoys squeezing under the trailer (which you’ve had to board up to _prevent_ that) or climb trees.

Hunting down Felida is a game of watching and waiting. You wait until a dark tail swishing behind the tree.

“Felida!” you say, “Get over here and put on your shoes!”

“Tigers don’t wear shoes!” Felida says.

“I’m giving you to the count of three to get over here!”

Felida hisses and runs again. You’re going to have another game of ring-around-the-trailer--a game you play every time Felida has to go out into the world and look presentable.

You walk into the front yard and see Nepeta holding Felida. Felida is hissing and kicking in the hope of getting free. Simham stands next to his mother, wearing the ridiculous animal-themed pajamas that Meulin keeps making for him and slurping from a slushie.

Nepeta holds up Felida. “I’m guessing this is yours, old man?”

“You’re a lifesaver.” You walk over and take Felida. The tiny oliveblood is still snarling and trying to scratch, but the latter is ineffective since you clipped her claws. You’ll be safe for another two weeks.

“Hi, Grandpa!” Simham laughs.

Grandpa. You still can’t think of yourself as ‘grandpa’ when you have two younger children. Even Nepeta doesn’t look old enough to be someone’s mother but here she is with your grandson. Two years of hard work in sanitation has caused her purpleblood genetics to act up, building up muscles and burning the excess fat gained during puperty.

“Not hanging with Torken today?” you ask Simham.

Simham shakes his head, resting his chin in Nepeta’s hair. “I’m with Mom.”

Nepeta grins. “Isn’t he a sweetie? Plus, I wanted to see you fumble around with Astrid.”

“I don’t ‘fumble around’ with her.” You growl.

“Where’s Astrid, Dad?”

“Astrid is...” You look around the yard and see the purpleblood kit is missing. “...shit.”

 

 

Nepeta laughs. “I figured as much.”

You glare at your oldest daughter. “Don’t _you_ start.”

“Dad! Your kid is being weird!”

You turn and see Maekit standing in the doorway. If Felida is a feral cat that’s lived in the wilderness for two years, then Maekit is a pampered house cat.

“Be nice to your sister.” You walk over to Nepeta and take Felida from her. Felida growls and twists bt can’t get free once you have her.

Maekit huffs and goes back inside. You follow in after her as the other oliveblood kit sits on the couch. Meulin shares the couch with her. Astrid stands in the corner, staring at them and not moving. For once, you side with Maekit about someone’s behavior.

Meulin looks at Felida. “What happened?”

“This one was running around without shoes. Again.” You sigh.

“Felida!” Meulin scolds, “Don’t you know there are sharp rocks and parasites out there?”

“I’m not scared of parasites.” Felida gnashes her teeth. “I’ll eat them!”

“There’s no point in explaining _anything_ to an idiot.” Maekit has an arrangement of cosmetics. She takes a small sponge and starts prepping her toenails for painting.

“This idiot will hunt you down!” Felida hisses.

“Maekit, be nice to your sister.” You say, “Felida, where did you put your shoes?”

Felida’s answer is a loud growl.  

“In her bed.” Maekit says, not looking up from her nails, “She can’t think of anywhere else because she’s a dumb--”

 _“Thank you, Maekit.”_ You say and march to the bedroom.

Once the kids molted, it became obvious there wasn’t enough space in Nepeta’s bedroom. You had to sell everything in the storage room to make room for them.

The bedroom is a war zone in three areas. Maekit has her pink quilted bed, pillows, and neatly arranged dolls. Simham has a small recuperacoon with stuffed animals piled near the base. Felida has a terrifying mound of blankets and pillows shoved into the corner. You wade through the awful mess, taking small, careful steps because everything the kids own is tiny compared to you.

You dig inside Felida’s mound and unearth a half consumed bag of gummy candy, two chew toys, several rocks, two huge clumps of grass with dandelions and dirt attached, chicken bones, and the sneakers that have endured endless trials of abuse.

“What have I told you about bringing trash inside the house, Felida?” you say as you tie your daughter’s shoes.

“We don’t live in a house!” Felida huffs.

“It’s considered a house.” You say, “We’ve had this conversation before: not everything _out_ _there_ belongs _in_ _here_.”

Felida sticks out her tongue. “I’d rather be out there! I’m a tiger!”

“Fine, you’re a tiger, but you still have to live in my trailer.” Once Felida’s shoes are tied. The oliveblood runs out of the bedroom. “Hey! Get back here and clean up this garbage!”

“No!”

You decide that you won one battle putting shoes on Felida. You’ll let Meulin endure the battle of forcing Felida to clean up and stop hoarding garbage. When you return to the living room, Simham is sitting on the floor next to Astrid. Astrid is staring ahead, not noticing him.

“So, you’re Grandpa’s other kid?” Simham asks.

Astrid glances at him, and says nothing.

“Is she mute?” Nepeta is on the couch, watching the scene like she would a nature documentary between wolves and dogs.

“Not according to Kankri.” You say, “She’s...uh...”

“Your father?” Meulin suggests, sitting on the other side of Maekit.

“Maybe. Just...smaller.” Though you should say ‘temporarily smaller’, because female highbloods are double the size of males on average. Astrid stares at you. “How about some fresh air, Astrid? Please tell you like the outdoors at least.”

Astrid doesn’t answer. Her eyes roam around the room, like a predator sizing up their hunting space. The air in the trailer becomes stifling and you leave for the backyard. Astrid will be fine with Meulin.

You sit on the back porch, enjoying the smell of wildflowers covering up the burnt plastic scent that pervades the neighborhood. The spring air does you good and you don’t have to worry about what Astrid thinks or having to endure her creepy stare.

You wonder what the fuck your problem is. You never had this issue with Gamzee; not even when he first arrived and was a complete dickhead.

You take your iHusk from your pocket. You hate caving in but you’re in a serious bind. Mentally kicking yourself, you open Trollichum.

 

\--taciturnClown[TC] began trolling arborealTamer[AT]!--

 

TC: HEY RAIL

TC: HOWS IT HANGING?

AT: look1ng for my asshole grandson

AT: well no…he’s not an asshole, he’s just a l1ttle k1d

AT: st1ll…he can be an asshole

TC: WHATD HE DO NOW?

AT: oh, the usual l1ttle k1d sh1t,

AT: not getting h1s way, so he took off and of course tav freaks out, so 1’m off look1ng for h1m because he’s a m1serable l1ttle sh1t,

AT: good for me he never goes far…

TC: SHOULDN’T TAVROS OR GAMZEE BE CHASING THEIR *OWN* SON?

AT: no…1 think gamzee’s too easy on h1m and tav’s too harsh…when torken gets l1ke this, 1ts easier for me to handle 1t…

AT: anyway, what’s going on w1th you?

                            

You had hoped the conversation would stay about your nephew and not stray to your miserable personal issues.

 

TC: I’M WATCHING ASTRID

AT: ...wh1ch one 1s astr1d aga1n?

TC: ...YOU DONT KNOW ANY OF MY KIDS?!

AT: loz, the amount of kids 1s ridiculous…1 can’t keep them stra1ght. you have l1ke s1x k1ds now...

TC: I HAVE FOUR

AT: 1t’ll eventually be s1x.

TC: HELL NO  

TC: ASTRID IS THE PURPLE

TC: THE ONE FROM KANKRI

AT: ohhh…the one w1th the we1rd stare…

TC: YOU NOTICED IT TOO?

AT: 1t’s hard *not* to not1ce 1t…

TC: SHES SO FUCKING CREEPY I HAVE NO IDEA WHY IM SO FREAKED OUT BY HER

TC: I GOT MY LIFE BACK SO I HAVE NO IDEA WHY SHE TERRIFIES ME

AT: 1’m gonna say 1ts cause she looks l1ke your dad but t1ny…

 

That just annoys you. You hate to think of yourself as still having issues with your father. You hardly remember what he looks like now that so much time has passed, or what he would have looked like as a kit Astrid’s age.

 

AT: l1sten, loz…just because you feel uncomfortable around her doesn’t mean you have to act that way.

AT: she could be just as scared of you…she just may not know or understand how to show 1t…

TC: THAT WOULD MAKE SENSE MY FATHER ALWAYS HAD A FEW NERVES FRIED IN HIS BRAIN FROM HATCHING

AT: you probably shouldn’t talk about your daughter l1ke that…

TC: IM NOT FUCKING SAYING IT TO HER FACE!

AT: alr1ght, 1 found torken and he’s not bolt1ng, so he must be t1red…f1nally.

AT: what are you go1ng to do?

TC: DEAL WITH ASTRID I GUESS

TC: THANKS FOR THE CHAT

TC: <>

AT: <>

 

\--taciturnClown[TC] ceased trolling arborealTamer[AT]!--

 

Even if Astrid makes you uneasy, you can’t avoid her. You go back inside the trailer to see the olivebloods enjoying themselves. Meulin and Maekit are exchanging nail polish tips. Nepeta and Simham have changed the channel from reality TV to a nature documentary.

Astrid is sitting in the corner looking incredibly bored. You walk over to her. “Want to head out?” Astrid stares and you sigh, “Come on.”

You walk to the door and check over your shoulder to make sure Astrid is following. She’s a lot more obedient than you thought she would be; definitely a trait inherited from Kankri.

You walk from your trailer because it’s too nice to just drive. You’re still not used to walking past trailers and not getting dirty looks. Once it became clear the ownership of the park was switching over and change was in the air, the dissenters left. You had a huge upheaval in the past year. Those who couldn’t afford to leave the Ninth Ward have just gone elsewhere, to Sparks, Tate, and as far from your neighborhood as possible. Fordham, Shaker Hill, and Two Boot Drive might as well be your own fiefdom with how people avoid you.

People still whisper about the Night of Bullets. They point to the sinkholes on Neiro Street and mention how your family and friends caused it. They never forget the Butcher of 100 Men, who walked these roads and embedded himself in the urban myths of New Jack.

You can’t dwell on that. You’re just a regular troll enjoying the spring day.

You go to Blank Park, which has seen better days. The jungle gym looks treacherous and the grass has grown too high. Astrid makes a beeline for the swing and starts moving on her own. You’re just glad you don’t have to explain the mechanics of swinging to her. With her size, she’s not getting much momentum going.

“You want a push?” you ask.  

Astrid gives you a look and you can’t tell if she’s unsure or confused. You decide to push her. Astrid swings and there’s a grin. You can deduce one thing: she’s happy.

She’s still a child.

Astrid enjoys the park, and you can relax instead of having to be on the lookout like with Felida, or have to drag Maekit out the house.

It’s sunset when Kankri shows up. He’s by himself, wearing one of those obnoxiously long sweaters and ass hugging shorts that he wears just to annoy you.

“Meulin told me you went out and I had a feeling you were here.” your kismesis says.  

You smirk. “That’s some maternal sense you got there, Vantas.”

“Not maternal. Just regular deduction.” Kankri says, “How was it?”

“It was...” You shrug, “I don’t know.”

“Kurloz...” Kankri gives you a sympathetic smile, “It’s alright if you’re uncomfortable. I...know her behavior is confounding and that purple hemokin have difficulties...” He looks down. “I was hoping that you two would...”

“Get along?” You fold your arms. “It’s fine. We figured things out.” You look at Astrid, who is back on the swings. “She’s just a kid. Same as the rest of them.”

Kankri smiles. “I knew you would understand.”

You don’t totally understand your daughter, but you get _some_ of it. Kankri approaches Astrid. The purple kit stops swinging and walks over to her mother.

“Hello, sweetie! How was your day with Daddy?” Kankri asks.

Astrid shrugs.

“Alright, let’s head home.” Kankri says, taking Astrid’s hand, “Kempie misses you.”

Kankri continues to talk as Astrid walks with him. Perhaps that’s why Astrid doesn’t feel the need to talk with Kankri is constantly filling the void with noise.


	4. what happened last week that night

**== >Kurloz: Be Karkat at the moment **

“Alright, spill the beans.” Dave says.

“Hell no.” You say.

As much as you love being over at Sollux’s, its becoming unbearable. Your matesprit keeps trying to talk to you about last Saturday and you have to avoid it. Thank the gods for kits constantly making noise and getting into trouble. Whether it’s Khanie slapping Suxxor or Suxxor biting Khanie or Dmitry getting in the middle of a fight between the two, you have a good excuse for avoiding talking about the incident.

Such distractions aren’t available when you’re back home. Khanie is upstairs with her Dads and Nessie is napping. Now the only obnoxious child is Strider and you can’t rebuff him as easily as you can Sollux.

“Karkat, you’ve been awkward with Sollux for a _week_.” Dave says, “What did you do? Sit on his face too long? Uncomfortable rope burns? Ask you to piss on him?”

“Why would I do any of that to Sollux?” Then you shake your head, “Nope. Never mind. Don’t even want to know what you _think_ we’re into. Don’t you have friends you can pester about _their_ personal lives?”

“That would involve leaving this couch and I’m too tired for that.” Strider smirks. “Just tell me already. I know you’re craving some adult interaction.”

You do want a conversation that isn’t about toys and how big you think the sun is. Nessie and Khanie are fun but you miss adult topics.

“Alright. So. Let’s say...theoretically...” you murmur, “that I gave someone a blowjob and I wasn’t prepared for it and I...sort of…”

“Threw up?” You stare at Dave and he laughs, “What? It happens to a lot of people.”

You cover your face. “That doesn’t make it less _embarrassing_! I apologized over and over again but I ruined the moment! And Sollux keeps trying to talk to me about it and it’s all so fucking embarrassing. I just want to curl up in a ball and _die_.”

“Karkat, I doubt you’re the first person to gag on the Captor double bulge.”

“It was _one_ bulge.”

Dave rolls his eyes. “It’ll be two with practice. You’ve given me blowjobs before. What happened?”

“It...before was _different_ , you know?”

Your skin crawls when you think of the last time you had a bulge in your mouth. You remember choking, praying for it to be over. You thought going down on Sollux would erase that awful memory but nope. Instead, you got nervous and fucked up.

“Cheer up, Mr. Krabs.” Dave puts his arm around your waist and rests his head on your shoulder, “You have to do what you’re comfortable with.”

This is getting dangerously close to pale, but fuck it. You need to talk to someone.

“I hate this.” You grumble, “He’s my matesprit. I shouldn’t think of those assholes when I’m with him...”

Dave shrugs. “You gotta do what you’re comfortable with, dude. Are you sure you want to have double bulge shenanigans with Sollux?”

You still want to have sex but you’re terrified of screwing up and don’t want Sollux to feel obligated to stay with you.

You can’t say that to Dave though because it’s a troll problem. Strider is understanding but he doesn’t share your fears.

You really need to talk to Terezi.

“It’s complicated.” You answer.

Dave shrugs. “It’s your life, dude.”

The door swings open and Jade walks in, fumbling with her purse. Nessie runs around her and jumps into your lap.

“Karkat!” Nessie laughs.

“Hey there, mini Strider.” You pat Nessie on the head and she giggles.  “How was Aunt Rose?”

“Fun.” Nessie says, “I got to watch Jazz Jackrabbit and Devan Shell was making everybody slow and Lori stopped him and...” The girl goes on and on about her favorite toy-pushing cartoon. Then the girl looked around. “Where’s Arthat?”

“He’s with his grandmother,” Dave says, “and hopefully he stays there.”

“ _Noooo_!” Nessie looks at you, pleading for Dave’s words not to be true.

“Arthat isn’t _staying_ with her.” You say, helping Nessie take off her boots.

Dave rolls his eyes and looks at Jade. “How’s Rose?”

“Same as before.” Jade is taking off her boots. “I’ll be glad when John gets out of rehab and can help out.”

“I bet John will just be happy to be out of Ridgeside.” Dave says, “It’s boring hanging with the elderly all day.”

“At least he can practice his stand-up with the Alzheimer’s patients.” you say, “If a joke doesn’t land, he can wait a few minutes and try again.”

Jade takes Nessie’s boots to the shoe rack. “Even the Alzheimer’s guys would get sick of the Egbert routine.” She looks at you, “Are you picking up Arthat?”

“No. Grandma is dropping him off.” You figure a visit to grandma’s should mellow Arthat out.

Being with Nessie is a dream compared to dealing with Khanie and Arthat. She sits in your lap as you watch sitcoms and have dinner while watching the latest One Piece movie. You have no idea how an anime could be popular enough to warrant over 1,000 episodes and 30 movies.

“I have no idea what’s going on anymore.” You admit as you watch the colorful misadventures of pirates with crazy powers. “I thought I did but I ended up looking at online summaries to figure it out. I still have no idea.”

“I got lost around episode 900.” Jade says.

“I have a vague idea of what’s going on but I’m waiting for the end at this point.” You say.

“I know they tried to end it before but the ending was so vague that it angered the fandom, so they made video games, movies and TV specials instead.” Dave says.

Nessie has no comment through all of this. She’s too preoccupied watching Luffy and company defeat the movie bad guys who will never be seen or mentioned outside of the movie.

You hear a car outside and there’s a knock at the door. You open it and Arthat is staring at you.

“Hey, you’re home late.” You say, “You have a fun time with grandma?”

Arthat blinks and walks past you. “Oui,” he says, “je had a bon time with grand-mère. Je will be visiting elle as often as possible.”  

“That’s great. I’m glad you two are getting along.” You say, “Did you have dinner? There’s leftovers in the fridge.”

“Je am not hungry.” Arthat says. He ignores Nessie trying to get his attention—and walks into the bedroom.

“Nice kid you got there.” Dave says.

“Stop it.” You sit next to Dave. “He’s still getting used to everything. He’s shy.”

“Is _that_ what we’re calling it?” Dave snorts.

You elbow him in the ribs so he’ll shut up. Nessie falls asleep twenty minutes from the end of the movie but for a one-year-old, it’s amazing she made it this far. You take her to the bedroom because you want to check on Arthat.

Arthat is reading _The Hunchback of Notre Dame_ on his bed. Snippy sits on his legs. When you enter, he flexes his claws—threatening you. You place Nessie on her bed and tuck her in.

“You sure you don’t want something to eat?” you ask.

“Oui. Je am more sure than sure.” Arthat says, “When is my mère calling?”

You don’t have an immediate response. Vriska didn’t tell you when she would call, or if she was calling at all. She was in such a hurry to leave that she left out huge details like Arthat’s diet, what he liked to do, or what his interests were. When you don’t immediately answer, Arthat looks up from his book. His expression changes to something you haven’t seen before: concern.

“You know, I was so busy rushing out the door I think she told me and I didn’t hear.” you say, “I bet she’ll call tomorrow at the latest.”

There’s no way Vriska wouldn’t call Arthat to check on him, right? Arthat has a lusus, but the animal can’t provide everything. She wouldn’t leave him completely alone...right?

Arthat frowns and returns to his novel. “Oui. Je shall wait then.”

You’re glad Arthat is such a conceited asshole that he doesn’t question the lie. You return to the living room, which Dave and Jade have abandoned for alone time.

You get your iHusk and open Trollichum to the group parenting chat. The chat was Jade’s idea since most of you have no idea what you’re doing. Sollux is asking how to help a parasite-riddled kit. Aradia asking how to remove gum from hair. Porrim demands to know who broke her window with a bottle rocket. Tavros asks who just moved into the neighborhood.

Terezi isn’t online.

You decide to speak with the other person who knows Vriska as well as you do.

 

\--carcinoGeneticist[CG] began trolling adiosToreador[AT]!--

 

CG: I HAVE A QUESTION BUT I’M WORRIED IF ITS TRIGGERING.

AT: cONSIDERING HOW WE’VE BEEN GOING TO GROUP THERAPY FOR TWO YEARS NOW, i DOUBT THERE’S ANYTHING YOU COULD SAY THAT WOULD TRIGGER ME,

AT: aSK ME ANY QUESTIONS YOU WANT, bRO }:)

CG: ON A SCALE FROM TROLL MAES HUGHES TO TROLL GENDO IKARI, HOW IRRESPONSIBLE OF A PARENT DO YOU THINK VRISKA IS?

CG: AND I’M NOT JUST ASKING BECAUSE OF HOW SHE FUCKED YOU OVER, BUT THERE’S SOMETHING ABOUT THIS SITUATION THAT DOESN’T FEEL RIGHT. I KNOW HOW MUCH VRISKA LOVES ARTHAT, BUT THE WAY SHE LEFT HIM ON FEELS STRANGE. LIKE SHE WAS REALLY IN A HURRY. SHE DIDN’T TELL ME WHAT HE LIKED TO EAT OR WHEN SHE WAS GOING TO CALL HIM. I KNOW SHE’S SELFISH, BUT SHE’S NEVER BEEN LIKE THIS BEFORE.

CG: I FEEL SOMETHING IS WRONG BUT I CAN’T PUT IT INTO WORDS. YOU EVER GET THAT FEELING?

AT: iNSTINCT,

AT: i WOULDN’T LABEL VRISKA AS TERRIBLE A PARENT AS TROLL GENDO IKARI BUT I WOULD PUT HER A NOTCH BELOW HIM, iF YOU THINK VRISKA IS IN TROUBLE, yOU’RE PROBABLY RIGHT BECAUSE SHE’S AN IRRESPONSIBLE IDIOT, dO WHAT YOU THINK NEEDS TO BE DONE AND I’M SURE THINGS WILL RESOLVE THEMSELVES,

AT: yOU’RE A PRETTY RESOURCEFUL DUDE,

CG: WOW...OKAY. THANKS, NITRAM.

AT: nO PROBLEM,

AT: bY THE WAY, cAN YOU WATCH TORKEN TOMORROW, tHE KID IS BOUNCING OFF THE WALLS AND BEING A REAL PAIN,

CG: WHAT’S GOING ON?

AT: hE’S ANTSY, hE’S DETERMINED TO EXPLORE THE SWAMPS EVEN THOUGH HE *KNOWS* IT’S NOT SAFE, i THOUGHT LETTING HIM GO WITH MOMEJU AND MEENAH WOULD STOP HIM FROM BEING A LITTLE ASSHOLE BUT APPARENTLY MEENAH MADE IT ‘BORING’ BY WORRYING FOR HIS SAFETY,

AT: hE’S ALSO EQUALLY DETERMINED NOT TO LISTEN TO ME OR GAMZEE,

CG: SO...HE’S *YOU*.

AT: sHUT THE FUCK UP, }:)

AT: i HAVE NO IDEA WHAT’S GOING ON WITH HIM, uSUALLY HE TALKS TO GAMZEE BUT HE’S BEING MORE CAGEY THAN USUAL,

CG: I DON’T MIND WATCHING HIM. MAYBE ARTHAT CAN MAKE A FRIEND. IF NOT, TORKEN CAN HANG OUT WITH KHANIE.

AT: yOU STILL GRUBSITTING ‘THE ALMIGHTY KHAN’,

CG: NOT FOR A WHILE. DIRK AND JAKE ARE DONE WITH THE HUNTING RAMPAGE FOR THE NEXT TWO WEEKS. NOW THEY’RE TURNING OUR TRAILER INTO A TAXIDERMY DEATH ZONE. IF THE NEW NEIGHBORS DON’T HATE US YET, THEY’LL DEFINITELY HATE US WHEN THEY SEE JAKE BUTCHERING DEAD MONSTERS IN OUR BACKYARD.

AT: cONSIDERING HOW THEY CALL YOU ‘THE HIPPIES’, oDDS ARE THAT THEY ALREADY HATE YOU,

CG: THAT IS SOME BULLSHIT. HOW THE HELL ARE WE HIPPIES?

AT: yOU *DO* HAVE THE WHOLE INTERSPECIES FAMILY AND TOGETHERNESS THING GOING ON,

CG: WE’RE THE EXACT OPPOSITE OF PEACE LOVING TOFU EATING DORKS. TWO OF OUR MEMBERS ARE CRAZED GUN NUTS RAISED TWO FUTURE GUN NUTS, WHICH IS ADDING FUEL TO THE FIRE. KHANIE AND NESSIE ARE ALREADY LITTLE DEMON AMAZONS THAT THROW MUD AT EACH FOR “FUN”.

AT: tHAT’S JUST NINER KIDS, tORKEN AND SIMHAM DO THE SAME WHEN THEY THINK I’M NOT PAYING ATTENTION,

AT: bY THE WAY, iF TORKEN IS WITH YOU, eXPECT SIMHAM TO RANDOMLY SHOW UP,

CG: DOES NEPETA NOT CARE WHAT HE DOES?

AT: sHE DOES, bUT SIMHAM FOLLOWS TORKEN NO MATTER WHAT ANYONE SAYS, pART OF THE BIG BROTHER INSTINCT,

CG: AS LONG AS I DON’T HAVE TO WATCH HIM. I’D RATHER NOT WATCH FIVE KITS.

AT: rELAX, kARKAT, yOU’LL BE FINE,


	5. the kids are alright...probably

You wake up early to check your iHusk messages (nothing from Vriska or Terezi) and then borrow one of Jade’s recipe books. The only time you use it is when you’re cooking for Nessie but you think Arthat would appreciate it. You defrost Jade’s storage of buckwheat pancakes and fry egg white frittatas.

Dave walks into the kitchen. “You’re awake? And cooking?” He smirks. “Let me guess, this is for His Majesty?”

You shrug, keeping your focus on the frying pan since your egg whites love to burn. “He doesn’t eat meat. I guess he’s like Jade. Health minded.”

Dave raises an eyebrow and if he has a sarcastic remark, he bites it back. You must be the picture of sadness if he’s doing that.

When Arthat wakes up to a breakfast, he doesn’t say anything out of the ordinary. He sits at the table and eats quietly while Nessie goes on about the One Piece movie. Arthat pays little attention, only interjecting with an “Mhm” or a “Huh”.

The doorbell rings and when you open the door, Torken is on your doorstep. His bike is chained to your mailbox and you don’t see a car moving down the road or his parents.

“Do your Mom and Dad know you’re here?” you ask.

Torken shrugs. “They told me I was coming here, so yeah.”

You don’t need to read his tone and body language to know he’s not in a friendly mood. You let him inside and Torken sits on the couch. Arthat finishes breakfast and walks over to the couch. He stares at the boy but sits on the far end of the couch, burying his attention in _The Hunchback of Notre Dame._ Nessie runs around, too excited for the weekly Sunday trip to the park in Upper Groveway. Dave is chasing after her to put pants on.  

“I’m going to call your Mom. Just to let him know you got here okay.” You say over the sound of Nessie squealing and Dave and Jade’s conversation.

Torken grunts. He finds the remote and turns on the TV, flipping through channels. He’s going to be looking for a while since Sunday mornings are slim pickings unless you like gospel and talk shows.

You use the phone in the kitchen but hover in the doorway. The last thing you want to happen is for Arthat to get into a fight.

When Tavros picks up the phone, he sounds exasperated. //”Let me guess: he just showed up?”//

“Yeah...” you say.

//“I should skin him alive for pulling this! _Again_!”// Tavros growls.

“Calm down there, Ferdinand.” You lower your voice so Torken won’t hear. “He’s already in a bad mood. I don’t think yelling is going to improve it.”

//”But it’s not _safe_.”// Tavros sighs, //“He’s not an adult like Gamzee. He could get hurt or kidnapped.”//

“So ground him, but not until later. I think this mood has to work out first.”

//”Fine. I just…”// Tavros pauses, disregarding whatever thought was brewing in his mind. //”Think you can handle him?”//

You peek in the living room to confirm Arthat and Torken are still being antisocial.

“I’ll be fine.” you say, “You should spend the day relaxing. Write some fanfiction. Play Fiduspawn. Bonk your matesprit.”

//”Oh gods no.”// Tavros grumbles. You hear Gamzee whine. //”No! Shoo! Go outside!”//

“You talking to your matesprit or your million of stray animals?” you snicker.

//”Piss off, Vantas!”// Tavros hisses and hangs up.

You can now blame Tavros’ increased annoyance on his matesprit or himself being in heat and making life a living hell. Eridan and Sollux have the same issue, and Sollux has invited you over in the past to be a buffer between the yellowblood and his kismesis.

Shit. You started thinking about Sollux again. You should call him but you have no idea what to say or how to apologize. There’s no Hallmark card for puking on your flush during a failed blowjob.

You return the phone to its holder and turn to be faced with a giant bat head.

“Boo!”

You yell and jump back. Khanie’s laughter fills the room and you glare at the tealblood.

“Dummy!” Khanie holds up the stitched, stuffed head of a grey-white giant bat lusus. She grins, showing her fangs. “It’s not even _alive_ , scaredy cat!”

“What are you doing here?” you groan, “Shouldn’t you be bothering your Dads?”

“I wanted to see you get spooked by my cool bat.” She strokes its fur. “Daddy got it for me and he showed me how to scoop out the brains and stuff it!”

Then it hits you why Khanie is wearing a smock stained with dark brown splotches. You back away from her. “Please tell me you washed your hands.”

“Nope!” Khanie holds out her free, gloved hand. “I’m gonna touch you!”

“Get away! I don’t want you to touch me with your gross hands!”

You run out the kitchen to avoid the kit. Khanie chases you around the dining table, knocking down chairs and holding up her disembodied bat. Torken and Arthat watch the scene, unsure of what to make of it.

“Khanie, are you in here making trouble?” Jake walks through the backdoor and looks at your daughter.

You’re fending off Khanie with a chair. “Your daughter is gross!”

“Karkat’s a wussy!” Khanie laughs.

“I am not! I just don’t like dead monsters!” you say.

“Wuuuussy…” Khanie whispers.

“Khanie, stop being mean to Karkat.” Jake picks up Khanie with one arm. The tealblood kit laughs and hugs him. “You said you wanted to show Karkat your head.”

Khanie holds the bat head like a precious treasure. “He _screamed_.”

“Because you popped out of nowhere with a bat head!” you say, putting down the chair. “Why do you have that in our trailer, Jake?”

Jake shrugs. “There’s a problem with the giant bats lately.” He grins. “You should see what else we got. Crab claws the length of your arm and a nearly intact sea-goat lusus. We have to cut him up in the backyard since it’s so huge.”

Torken walks over to Jake. “Can I watch?”

“Sure!” Jake pats Torken on the head, “You can learn plenty of things about life from killing and stuffing dead animals.”

You question what anyone could learn aside from sewing and strong stomachs. You’ve never watched Jake and Dirk do taxiderming, so you stand on the back porch with Arthat. The kit won’t admit he’s interested in the feat, but he doesn’t decline from watching. You watch Dirk and Jake haul the seagoat lusus from the upper trailer in giant pieces.

The beast is large—larger than a local animal should be. Dirk spreads a tarp over the grass while Jake arranges the pieces. You’re glad Jade and Dave left with Nessie so she’s not underfoot. Once the pieces are arranged, Jake makes sure Torken and Khanie are in gloves, smocks, and masks.

“Always make sure to have your tools prepared ahead of time.” Jake wears a big grin on his face as he shows the two kits a series of knives, scalpels, and other terrifying looking tools. “We already prepped the animal by cutting up and freezing each part. Freezing is integral to the entire process.”

Torken touches one of the cut up haunches while Dirk decides which fleshing knife to begin with.

“How did it die?” Torken asks.

“Ah, that’s a sad tale.” Jake says, “Most of these beasties live deep in the swamp but since a lot of the wetlands are being drained, they’re losing their homes. They go inland and there they run into trouble.” He shakes his head. “It’s sad but nothing we can do about it.”

“It’s how things are.” Dirk says and hands Jake a large knife.

“Right! Now to start removing things!” Jake approaches everything cheerfully.

At the sound of blade hitting half-frozen meat slush, your stomach twists. You retreat inside the trailer before Jake removes the beast’s guts. Arthat follows you inside, covering his mouth.

“That est _vile_!” Arthat says, “How can ils do like that? C’est _barbaric_!”

You shrug and sit on the couch next to Snippy and Bec. Sonny Jr. remains on the floor because he’s the only one that listens to you. You pet the crabdog on the head, who turns sullen when Nessie isn’t home.

“It’s gross, but it’s what they enjoy.” You say.

“So vous think c’est alright to cut up lusii who lose their home?” Arthat demands, “Would vous let leur cut up Monsieur Snippy if ils decided to?”

“Arthat, this isn’t about that.” you say, “The lusii Dirk and Jake hunt aren’t sentient.”

At least you _think_ they’re not like Snippy. You never asked about Dirk and Jake’s hunting trips because it turns your stomach. You assumed the lusii were rabid or suffering from disease because most swamp lusii were.

“Snippy is more like Sonny Jr.” You say. Sonny Jr., at hearing his name, climbs into your lap. He’s gotten so huge and still thinks he’s a lap-sized.  “No one’s going to carve up him, Bec, or Snippy up. Don’t worry about it.”

“Monsieur Snippy est not a stupid pet, vous idiot!” Arthat picks up Snippy and runs to the bedroom, slamming the door.

Looks like you failed another test, but you’re getting used to that. You take out your iHusk and hesitate before sending a single message.

 

\--carcinoGeneticist[CG] began trolling gallowsCalibrator[GC]!—

\--gallowsCalibrator[GC] is offline!—

 

CG: HEY.

CG: I KNOW YOU’RE BUSY BUT...

CG: I MISS YOU.

 

\--gallowsCalibrator[GC] is offline!--

 

The doorbell rings. You go to it expecting Dave to be completely worn out by his daughter or Kankri asking you to watch Kempie while he takes Astrid to the hospital again. When you open it, Terezi is looking at you and she’s not in her business attire but shorts and T-shirt.

“Hey.” Terezi says.

“Hey.” You say, “Is everything okay? You need anything?”

The tealblood smiles. “Only to see you.”

Your moirail hugs you and tears sting your eyes. You missed her badly. Too badly for words. You go to the bedroom because such a reunion requires privacy.

“What are you doing here?” Your head is in your moirail’s lap, feeling her skirt against yours.

Terezi’s thin fingers move through your thick hair. “A fairy-bull told me to get my ass in gear and watch out for my pale.”

You smirk. “I’m surprised you didn’t just ignore him like we always do with hormonal Nitrams.”

“You can’t ignore good advice.” Terezi says, “Kempie misses having me around and Astrid is...” She pauses, “Well, Astrid doesn’t give a shit but I know Kempie doesn’t like being alone with her.”

“ _I_ don’t like being alone with her.” You snort, “Are you sure you should be taking time off? Kankri told me things with DynamiCHEM aren’t great and they still might pull some shit. I really don’t mind--”

“Karkat, we _both_ know you mind being on the sidelines.” Terezi smiles. “You need to treat yourself like you would a best friend. You give everyone else so much slack and don’t save any for yourself.”

You frown. “I don’t need that much slack. Slack shouldn’t be in limited quantities to begin with.”

“It is because it can be draining.”

You shrug, not agreeing or disagreeing. “The only thing I would consider draining is dealing with Vriska. I’m getting a bad feeling about her.”

Terezi rolls his sightless eyes. “What about a Serket doesn’t warrant a ‘bad feeling’?”

“This is different.” Could this be an auspistice thing? It’s been a year and you’re _still_ not sure if you’re in the ashen quadrant with Vriska or not. “It was weird how she left. It makes me think something else is going on.”

Terezi shrugs. “It’s Vriska. There’s plenty she could be doing that you don’t know about.”

You nod, but can’t shake that feeling. You know calling Vriska won’t help since she hates confrontation.

The hour you spend with Terezi is everything you need: skin to skin contact, calm whispers, and a pervading feeling that everything is going to be alright. When she leaves, a weight eases off your shoulders.

You go to the back door and see Jake spraying the kids with a hose. Khanie and Torken are covered in blood splatter and throwing frozen lusus chunks at each other. Simham walks into the yard, looks at the scene, and joins in without hesitation. You’re not sure if it’s Gamzee’s or Nepeta’s side that encourages that behavior.

You let the kids have their fun. You call your matesprit.

//”You’ve reached the Land of Screaming Kids and Migraines. Please leave a message after the tantrum.”// Sollux grunts.

“Dmitry and Suxxor duking it out?” you chuckle.

//”Hey, KK, and yeah.”// Sollux grumbles, //”More sibling rivalry bullshit. What about your end?”//

“Watching Jake and three kits throw dead animal parts at each other.” you say, “It’s like Troll Rob Zombie’s wet dream. I bet Suxxor would love it. Why don’t you come over?”

//”Sounds like a good idea. Dmitry and Suxxor need space.”//

Sollux doesn’t waste time and arrives twenty minutes later. Torken, Simham, and Khanie are inside cleaning off animal slush and preparing for a water balloon fight. Suxxor grins when he sees Torken and runs over to join the kits.

Arthat is still in the bedroom, so you open the door. The ceruleanblood is on his bed still reading _The Hunchback of Notre Dame_.

“You’re going outside.” You declare.

“Je am reading.” Arthat says.

“You have two options.” You declare. “You can either go outside, tolerate my matesprit and me talking loudly about our feelings, or tolerate Nessie bugging you. She’ll be back at noon which is about”—you look at the iHusk clock—“twenty minutes! So, your choice.”

Arthat glares at you but closes the book and leaves the room. Snippy follows on his heels. Arthat steps out into the living room and is startled by the sight and sound of other children in his immediate space. They’re crowded around Jake as he hands out water balloons.

Jake notices Arthat and smiles. “Taking part in the water balloon fight, chum?”

“Non,” Arthat grunts, “Je will be watching vous idiots get wet.”

“Nice kid, KK.” Sollux snickers. “He’s as friendly as I thought he would be.”

Arthat fixes Sollux with a poisonous look. “Vous...are le idiot yellow. Je... _remember_ vous.” He wrinkles his nose. “Just as stupid then as vous are now.”

Sollux looks at you, smirking. “This one hasn’t molted into not being stuck up either.”

Suxxor looks at Arthat and smiles. “Hey, I know you!” The yellowblood kit smiles, “You called Pops an idiot! Awesome.”

“Like your son is any nicer.” You snicker to your matesprit.

“Ah. Oui. Le _other_ yellow…” Arthat murmurs but his eyes are narrowed.

Suxxor smirks. “You still talk weird.”

“Mmm...oui...” Arthat looks at the ground. It’s surreal to see Arthat flustered. You doubt he’s interacted with other children his age.

“Where do you live? I haven’t seen you since then.” Suxxor continues.

“With my mere…” Arthat murmurs.

A water balloon hits the back of Suxxor’s head. He whirls and looks at Khanie, who is laughing. Suxxor hisses and chases the girl outdoors.

“I’m gonna get you!” he yells.

“Yeah right!” Khanie laughs.

Arthat grunts and follows them outside. Torken and Simham run after him and the water balloon war begins.

You flop on the couch. “I hope this tires them out and they go the fuck to sleep afterward.”

“No such luck, KK.” Sollux sits next to you. “How’s the full-time Dad thing?”

“No huge disasters so far..”

Sollux shrugs. That the best any of you can hope for. “So you finally want to talk to me? And here I thought you seeing my handsomeness would make your face melt.”

You want to hit him in the shoulder for his sass but you’ve promised that this is going to be tender, flushed moment.

“I didn’t know what to do,” you say, “so I avoided you because I didn’t want to accidentally fuck up a good thing.” You smile. “I feel a lot better since I talked to Terezi though.”

Sollux immediately frowns.

“What?” you ask.

The yellowblood looks away.

“Hey, if you have an issue with my moirail—and _your sister_ —you might as well tell me.”

Sollux exhales. “That’s the issue. She’s my sister.”

You stare at him. “So? Most people we know are related.”

“That doesn’t make it less of a problem.” Sollux said, “Terezi is your moirail and you hold her opinion in high regard but she’s not as perfect as you _think_ she is, and it bugs me the way she just ‘drops’ you.”

You raise an eyebrow. “‘Drops’ me?”

“You’re not a priority for her, KK. Then there’s this whole mess with DynamiCHEM...are you seriously okay with your moirail putting thousands of people out of work just because of a grudge?”

“It’s not my place to judge. It’s not _my_ mother…”

“But she’s in over her head! DynamiCHEM wants to settle and she’s too preoccupied with revenge because it’s Mom! I bet she doesn’t talk to you about this. She just does what she wants and you’re supposed to smile and nod? She treats you like a second thought, KK. Not a moirail.”

That’s not true. You don’t interfere with Terezi’s plans because you rarely have an opinion. What’s going on with DynamiCHEM is Terezi’s business, as it was her business to deal with Kankri and Khanie.

There’s no point in letting it bother you. It’s all in the past.

It never bothered you to begin with. Why are you still thinking about this?

“KK?” Sollux asks.

“I’m fine.” You lie, “Terezi is the smartest troll I know. I’m sure she’s fine.”

“Terezi is book smart, KK. Not people smart.” Sollux sighs, “What is with you when it comes to Terezi and Vriska? You always call people on their bullshit but you let them walk all over you until they push too far.”

“Sollux.” You say, not looking at your matesprit, “I _really_ don’t want to talk about this. I wanted to talk about us. Not Terezi and Vriska.”

Sollux exhales and you know this isn’t the end of this conversation. “Fine.” He says, “So what _is_ going on?”

You shrug. “I got nervous blowing you. I just wanted you to feel good and so I…” You shrug. “I guess I was worried about you not wanting me.”

Sollux kisses you. “Hey, I’ll _always_ want you, with or without blowjobs. I’ll do it without sex if that makes you more comfortable.”

You laugh. “A Captor in an asexual relationship? It must be the end of days...”

“I’m serious.” Sollux says, “I flush you, KK, and its not like I’ll be going completely sexless. Not when your brother gets hormonal and insists on being in my personal fucking space.” He shrugs, “No big deal to me.”

Haring him say that alone makes you want to cry. Instead you kiss him and lay your head in his lap. You don’t have to out loud how much you love him. You just enjoy not having kids around for a while and your head in your matesprit’s lap. Sollux purrs and scratches the to pof your head.


	6. waiting for her

**== >Karkat: Be Terezi later that night **

Kempie is an easier kit to care for than you thought he would be. One bedtime story later and he’s fast asleep in his recuperacoon. He did have a bed but he thrashed and kicked so much that Kankri and you decided he needed sopor. You have no idea what he dreams about, but he still wakes from nightmares.

Astrid is the exact opposite. The purpleblood kit refused to sleep in the recuperacoon and sequesters herself in the closet, bedding down like a feral kitten. Kankri guesses that since she did that as a grub, that is what she’s always going to prefer. You just agreed because you have no idea what to do with Astrid. She never speaks when you’re around; just stares like a hungry wolf.  

You question if she rides that thin line between troll and animal like the Summoner and the Grand Highblood in their older, bloodier days. Was her grandfather the same way? Only those who knew your grandparents would know and they’re either long dead or disappeared forever.

You don’t let your thoughts linger on Astrid. You go to the bedroom and check your husktop. Still no message from Vriska. Grumbling, you sit on the bed and wonder what the hell could be going on.

“What?” you ask. You don’t need eyes to know that Kankri is staring at you like he’s been for the past few weeks.

“Nothing.” Kankri says in a tone that tells you the last thing that’s on his mind is ‘nothing’.

“You may as well say it.” You turn, facing the blurred shape of colors and smells that is Kankri. “You’ve been holding it back for a while now. It’s not like I’ll leave you if you disagree.”

“I’m not afraid of that.” Kankri says, with no apprehension in his voice. “I just don’t know what you’re trying to do anymore. DynamiCHEM wanted to settle--”

“Kankri. It.” You sigh, “It’s complicated, okay?” You don’t need sight to know how your matesprit is looking at you, feeling his stony silence dig its claws into you. Finally, you relent with, “The amount of money wouldn’t be enough.”

It pains you to say it aloud.

Kankri is silent for a half second that you know he is blinking and taking in the information. “And how do you know that?”

Your stomach tightens. You can’t look at him.

“Terezi.” His warm hand is on your shoulder. So unbearably warm it could be burning to your cold body. “Please talk to me.”

“I can’t, and no, it’s not for confidentiality.” you say, “I just...can’t.”

Your husktop chimes. You get off the bed and go over to the desk and see a message alert.  You’re relieved when you see who it is and open the encoded window.  

 

\--gallowsCalibrator[GC] began trolling arachnidsGrip[AG]—

GC: 4BOUT D4MN T1M3! WH3R3 H4V3 YOU B33N?

AG: You try finding some alone time when you spend one half of the day in cocktail parties masquerading as meetings, running around Scarpino and heading out to Anzivino and waiting for an hour 8efore realizing that the designer’s car 8roke down and now you have to wait for your driver to come 8ack their union design8d 8reak.

AG: Then coming all the way 8ack to Scarpino and realizing that the hotel doesn’t recognize that you came in with someone and having to wait until said room owner shows up so you can 8e allowed 8ack into *your own fucking room* 8ecause the security is so wound up and the head guard is power tripping.

AG: So yeah. It’s 8een a long day and I’m sure my feet are permanently dinosaur shaped from 8eing in fucking heels this entire time.

GC: WHY D1DN’T YOU JUST BR1NG TWO P41RS OF SHO3S?

AG: 8ecause I’m not getting dirt in my new Prada hand8ag is why!

GC: 4NOTH3R H4NDB4G? 4R3 YOU OP3N1NG 4 H4NDB4G STOR3?

AG: It was a gift. Like you would know the fine quality of Nehetalian haute couture shops while you’re stuck eating jam8alaya and looking through the moldy 8ook stores on Main Street.

GC: WOND3RFUL 4ND H3R3 1 W4S TH1NK1NG YOU WOULD 4CTU4LLY H4V3 TH3 COURT3SY 4ND D3C3NCY TO S3ND M3 4 M3SS4G3 4BOUT WH4T YOU W3R3 DO1NG FOR ONC3

AG: I can’t help it if I’m having fun, plus the time difference. Though if you’re in a mood I guess I can always call 8ack l8r…

GC: 1’M TOO PR3OCCUP13D R1GHT NOW TO PL4Y NOT P1TCH W1TH YOU  MY SP4D3’S JUST NOT 1N 1T

AG: Then I guess my heart’s not in this. May8e I should seriously reconsider doing you this favor. I *am* putting my livelihood on the line.

GC: TH3R3’S NO W4Y YOU WOULD DO TH1S B4RG41N WH3N YOU H4V3 MOR3 TO LOS3

AG: Shows how much you know.  

GC: 1 COULD 4LW4YS R3TR4CT MY P4RT OF TH3 D34L 4S W3LL YOU COULD B3 TH3 ON3 D1R3CTLY D34L1NG W1TH WMS 4K4 TH3 P3OPL3 YOU FUCK3D OV3R 4ND 4R3 SCR4MBL1NG THROUGH 4 ST1LL 3X1ST1NG F1N4NC14L M3LTDOWN

GC: 1’M SUR3 YOU’LL B3 P3RF3CTLY S4F3

AG: Jeez, Pyrope. Retract your fangs, claws, noose, sword, and wh8ver else you have in your hand.

GC: 1’M NOT 4NGRY

AG: Then what’s your deal?

GC: TH1S 1SN’T TH3 T1M3 TO G3T 1NTO 1T D1D YOU F1GUR3 OUT WH3R3 3X4CTLY TH3 F1L3 1S?

AG: Well...

AG: Yes and no.

GC: WH4T DO3S TH4T M34N?

AG: What you *think* it means! Listen.

AG: Hecu8a’s 8een in the corpor8 lawyer game for a long time. She’s smart and I can’t do too much snooping without drawing a lot of attention. I still think my original hunch was correct in that it’s still in the penthouse. If not, there has to 8e clues as to where it would 8e.

 

That doesn’t offer much hope. Gods know who big or convoluted a file system Hecuba uses. The disadvantage is huge but you’ll just have to live with it.

 

GC: TH4NK YOU TRY NOT TO SCR3W UP WH1L3 YOU’R3 PL4Y1NG F4SH1ON MOD3L

AG: As if I would. I’m a natural 8orn 8eauty.

 

\--arachnidsGrip[AG] ceased trolling gallowsCalibrator[GC]—

 

You delete the archive, scrubbing it from the computer memory. You’re too paranoid not to and you hope Vriska does the same from her end. The program disappears and you’re only partially at ease. No doubt Vriska is lying on her bed or resting in a hotel chair. According to timezone differences, its almost four in the morning. The perfect time to have a discussion like this.

You turn off the husktop and retreat to your bed. Kankri is sitting up, reading and pretending not to have an opinion. You can tell when he’s purposely stifling himself, trying not to start a fight by burying his attention in a library book. You sit next to him and try to think of a conversation topic, but nothing comes to mind. You just sit there in silence, listening to the loud chirp of the crickets and the lightning bugs clinging to your window.

You try to think of a topic but all you can grasp for is, “That’s not usually what you get.”

“Doing a little research for an upcoming article.” Kankri says, turning a page in _Paving Paradise: The East’s Vanishing Wetlands._

You nod. You’ve heard about the hearings all week but you doubt any steam is going to be built up. No one wants to side with the Green Genes, even if its for a genuinely good cause. There’s too much bad blood between them and the locals to get anyone outside of their small supporter base.

“I was thinking about going to the next city council meeting just to hear them bring it up.”

“Mhm.”

You sigh. You hate how withholding Kankri can be at times; internalizing his anger but its impossible to ignore. You’d prefer if he would just shout. “Kankri, I just...” You slump on the bed. “I’m just so tired and I’d rather not _do_ this right now.”

“When will you?” Kankri asks, “I know I don’t ask for much from you, Terezi, but honestly is definitely one of those things that’s...well, it’s a game breaker. I just want you to open up. Just tell me what’s going.”

“Because you don’t feel that I can handle this?”

“Because I worry about you getting in over your head.” The mutantblood sighs, “I just want you to see me as an equal. Not someone you have to constantly take care of.”

You don’t answer, neither confirming nor deny how he feels.

You hear a noise. Footsteps in the hall. Kankri and you go still as you listen out. The door opens and your heart pounds. You see the remnant of the Cherubs with a silenced gun, a DynamiCHEM hired goon with a rifle, a crooked cop placing you under arrest--

“Daddy?” Kempie sniffles, standing n the doorway.

You breathe again. You look at your son who’s so small and frightened that you know that this is how Kankri must have looked as a kid. No wonder his appearance could even melt the Condesce’s iced heart.

“What’s wrong, Kem?” Kankri asks.

The kit walks over and climbs onto the bed. “I had the dream again…”

Kankri shooshes your son. “It’s alright. It’s just a bad dream. It can’t hurt you.”

“It’s scary though…” Kempie whimpers.

You almost wish you were Kempie’s shoes: only a year old with nothing to fear but what his tired mind conjures up when he’s sleeping. It’s a reassuring thought to be afraid of something that will be banished as easily as waking up.


End file.
